Raneya clutched the crumpled note in her hand, its words seared into her mind like the echo of a curse, an omen.
The safe house, once her only refuge, now felt like a coffin.
She sat stiffly on the creaking bed in the dim room, shadows clawing at the corners as the fan above her groaned with every turn. Her mind buzzed like a broken wire. Should she believe it? Was it real?
She couldn't breathe.
Was Aanya behind this? Could she have had a change of heart?
She remembered that moment—Aanya's eyes just before the confrontation at home. There had been something there. Not hatred. No pity. But something unreadable… Something conflicted.
Her head spun with questions and doubt, but one thing rang clear—she had been found.
The safe house felt colder than ever now. The lock on the door no longer felt like protection—but a shackle. Every noise outside felt amplified, every shadow a threat. Raneya had trusted too many faces before. She couldn't afford another mistake.
Still… her instincts screamed.
Something wasn't right.
She paced in the room, battling confusion and panic like two wolves fighting for control. Finally, swallowing her fear, she picked up her phone and dialed the constable's number, her voice barely steady.
"Sir, someone… left me a note. They said I'm being watched."
The line crackled for a moment.
"Don't open the door for anyone," he replied firmly. "We'll review the footage from the outside camera. You'll be fine."
But even as he spoke, a shiver ran down her spine as her eyes, almost unwillingly, drifted to the broken shard of glass in the window. And there—across the street, half veiled by the murk of trees and early fog—the black car sat like a beast ready to pounce.
The same black car that had followed her before.
Same model. Same engine hum. Windows tinted. Same presence that haunted her in nightmares.
They were here.
Her breath hitched violently,heart exploded into chaos, and in a moment of utter terror, logic shattered. Her mind didn't wait for the constable's confirmation. Her heart had already made the decision.
She ran.
She grabbed her bag, heart hammering like a war drum, shoved the note into her pocket, and slipped out the back window, cutting her arm slightly on the broken glass.Her wounded arm scraped the window's jagged edge, drawing fresh blood—but she didn't even wince. Instead, she sprinted barefoot into the night, the cold biting her skin, the silence behind her ominous and infinite.
She was sure she was smart.
But that was exactly what they wanted.
The moment her feet hit the cold, cracked pavement, the car roared to life behind her.
Headlights flared and tires screamed as they burned rubber on the road.
Raneya turned down the street, her breath ragged, her legs barely holding her up. Her body screamed for rest, for shelter, but her fear kept pushing her forward. But she ran—ran like her life depended on it—because this time, it truly did.
The city was waking up, but the streets were still mostly bare, painted in dull gray by a sun still reluctant to rise. Her legs pumped beneath her, lungs raw with every gasp. The cold morning air slashed her face as she zigzagged through narrow alleys, trying to lose them.
But the engine behind her stayed steady. Patient. Predatory.
They weren't rushing. They were playing.
Like a cat with a mouse.
Her slippers tore as she turned a corner too fast and nearly slipped. Her bag banged against her hip. She didn't care. Her vision blurred with tears she didn't remember shedding. Panic had taken full control now.
She was slipping.
And they knew it.
Then—a screech of brakes.
The black car skidded dangerously close, cutting across her path. She turned sharply and bolted into the main road. Horns blared, drivers cursed, but she kept running. The car whipped around again.
This time, it charged straight at her.
Her scream was silent, swallowed by the roar of the engine.
And then—
A figure appeared.
An old woman. Frail. Dressed in a shawl. Obliviously crossing the road just ahead.
Time snapped.
The car didn't stop.
BAM.
The woman was flung like a ragdoll.
Her body hit the ground with a sickening crunch.
Screams erupted. Tires squealed. The car didn't slow down—it spun, veered, and vanished into the morning haze, disappearing like a phantom in the shadows.
Raneya had thrown herself behind a tree just in time, her nails clawing into the bark as her entire body trembled.
She could have escaped. She could've walked away while everyone swarmed the street. She had the chance.
But she didn't move.
Because that woman... that blood...the lifeless hand twitching on the asphalt… something inside Raneya snapped.
She couldn't become them.
She had been prey for too long.
Heart pounding, she ran towards the chaos.
"Somebody help me!" Her voice cracked as she cried, dropping to her knees beside the old woman. Her hands fluttered uselessly until she gripped the woman's wrist—weak pulse. Breathing—shallow, but there.
"CALL AN AMBULANCE!" she screamed at the gathering crowd.
Someone finally dialed. A few helped her lift the woman.
And still, Raneya stayed. Her clothes stained with blood, her eyes wild with the trauma of everything she had just endured—but she never let go of the old woman's hand. Not for a second.
The ambulance arrived.
So did the police.
The officer looked at Raneya, then at the trail of tire marks and the crimson on her sleeves.
"This was a hit-and-run," he muttered grimly. "We'll need your full statement."
Raneya just nodded, numb.
As the woman was wheeled into the ER, one of the paramedics whispered, "She's lucky you stopped her bleeding. She might just make it."
But what Raneya didn't know was—
This wasn't just a moment of mercy.
The old woman she had just saved… wasn't just anyone.
She was Razia Bibi, the mother of a high-ranking retired judge. And her life being spared that morning would set off a ripple effect far beyond what Raneya could imagine.
The predators thought they were closing the trap.
But fate… had just given Raneya her first real weapon.
A witness. A name. And maybe… the first thread of justice
And soon, that face would echo in places where even the Qureshi name could no longer silence the truth. MAYBE.